


in the eye of the hurricane (there is quiet).

by flustraaa



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Criminal Minds RPF
Genre: Angst/Fluff, Derek Morgan Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Derek morgan, Injured Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Near character death, Spencer Reid Angst, Spencer Reid Whump, Team Dynamics, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24464782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustraaa/pseuds/flustraaa
Summary: “why is it always him?” JJ mumbles, sparing a glance to the room across from her— through the crack she can see his pale, frail form nestled under the sheets; sedated and utterly dead to the world.“not sure,” Morgan says softly back, “but what I do know is we’ll always be here.”“if i’m not out of here when he starts to stir you’re breaking me in.”without hesitation, except for a soft snort, Morgan answers, “absolutely. you, me, and Pretty Ricky.”
Relationships: Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau & Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ” Jareau & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Spencer Reid & The BAU Team
Comments: 12
Kudos: 409





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my finger slipped

When Reid opens his eyes everything is dark and his head is pounding. 

“Hey, Pretty Ricky,” Morgan says, as JJ squeezes his shoulder, “we were starting to get worried you weren’t going to get up.” 

“What ‘append?” He mumbles, desperately trying to get his eyes to focus, situating his shaking arms beneath him before realising Morgan is pressing down on his abdomen with JJ’s grey blazer, “Oh, that’s _not_ good.” 

“Easy,” JJ soothes, helping him lay back down, “Unsub shot you and knocked us out. He cut service, Garcia’s looking for us now.” 

“How bad—“ he starts, only to be immediately truncated by JJ’s voice that’s more shaky than it should be. 

“Don’t worry about it, Spence. Everything’s going to be fine. Just keep your eyes on me.” 

“Morgan?” He manages, words slurring. 

Derek just raises his eyes to meet Reid’s, maintaining pressure on the wound, but not trusting his voice enough to respond. 

“Why’re you crying?” The bluntness stuns the two agents into silence. He looks around, eyes fluttering exhaustedly as he tries to get more comfortable. “It’s bad isn’t it?” 

His eyes meet JJ’s and she shakes her head, swallowing a lump, tears slipping over her flushed cheeks, mingling with the blood from the cut on her forehead, “You’re going to be fine.” 

He doesn’t believe her. 

“Hey, open your eyes.” Reid hadn’t even been aware he’d closed them. “Spence, open your eyes. I wanna see them.” 

“M’tired, Jayje,” he pants, rolling his head to the left, “I don’t want to.” 

“I know,” her voice wobbles and her hands shake as she holds his hand, “I know, and I’m sorry, but you need to open your eyes. C’mon, let me see them. Remember when Henry asked you to go to the optometrist with him to show him it wasn’t scary?” 

Reid nods, exhaling with difficulty, grunting when Morgan adds a little more pressure— _was he still bleeding?_

“How long have we been here?” Reid slurs, trying to reassure JJ by squeezing her hand, but it seems to only make her _more_ upset at how week his grip is.

She hesitates, looking to Morgan who nods, as if telling her she shouldn’t lie, “Six hours. You’ve been conscious for probably a total of forty minutes... if that.”

“m’I still bleeding?” She shakes her head licking her lips as she brushes the hair feom his face, eyes filling with tears again. “Morgan’s trying to limit infection. If you slip out again we’ll probably be switched by time you wake up.”

Spencer nods— or, well, he tries.

“Eyes on me,” JJ whispers softly, tangling her fingers through his hair, “Keep your eyes on me.”

“Eyes on _you_ ,” He mumbles back, and that’s the last thing he remembers.  
  


The next time he wakes up, he can hear JJ and Morgan bickering. They’re to the side and he’s almost certain they’re both crying.

“We can’t lose him,” Morgan whispers, “Don't even _imply_ that.” 

“I don’t know what else to do,” she rasps, “He didn’t wake up when we wrapped him up and he’s not awake now and I’m terrified. I can’t breathe knowing that he could... and it would... _shit_ , Derek.”

Spencer watches as Morgan wraps an arm around her, pulling her close and he says soft words, trying to reassure her that they’re not going to lose him. 

And then Spencer remembers the words they’d said— wrap him up. Sluggishly Spencer raises his hand to find that there’s a shock blanket hover him, the skin now bare where his button down had once been; completely tossed aside. 

The crinkling draws Morgan and JJ’s attention to him, and they rush over kneeling beside him. 

“Hey kid, how’re you feeling?” Morgan resets the blanket, moving Reid’s wrist from the bullet hole and Reid glances between them. 

“How long was I out?” He can tell from the hesitation that it was a lot longer than it should’ve been. 

“A while,” JJ admits softly, brushing the curls from his eyes, though they’re marred with sweat. “You have a fever, but you’re not infected. We’ve been changing your bandage.” 

It’s then that Reid notices the blood that that been drying against the side of her face was gone. If he focused he could smell alcohol. 

“How did—“ he starts hand absently returning to his own wound. Morgan grabs his hand again, pulling it away from the wound. 

“Turns out our Unsub was a little more alcoholic and a lot more paranoid than we thought. Help shouldn’t be too far but I need you to stay awake this time.” Her voice quivers and Reid gives her as stern of a look as he can manage.

“How long was I out?” Reid repeats, and when neither JJ or Morgan responds he forces himself up with a cry. 

“Reid, stop—“ But Spencer only shakes his head, leaning on Morgan for support. 

“Can’t,” He wheezes, “If I lay down I’ll be out again. I don’t even realise I’m unconscious until I wake up.” 

There’s a long moment of silence and Reid can only focus on the pounding in his head, the blood in his ears, and the throbbing in his abdomen. “Someone needs to start talking. I don’t feel so hot.” 

“We think he moved us,” Morgan blurts, “When JJ was looking for supplies she realises this warehouse was different. That’s why it’s taking so long for them to find us. The SUV is somewhere else.” 

“We think this is his doomsday bunker— we’re rethinking the profile. Schizophrenic who might have Dissociative states. He was scared when he saw us.” JJ continues for Morgan, and Reid finds himself nodding holding to Morgan and JJ. 

“I noticed that before everything went dark,” He mumbles, struggling to keep his breathing in check through the pain, “He looked scared. He didn’t look like he wanted to hurt any of us.”

“We think his other personality took over once he saw your blood,” Morgan says, rearranging the blanket around Reid’s shoulders. 

“Do you want to take some ibuprofen?” JJ asks, “There’s Advil in the kit, and it’ll bring down your fever a little.” 

“You’re taking it either way, just nod, Pretty Boy.” Spencer does as he’s told, swallowing the pill dry.

“Keep _talking_ ,” he sussurates, hitching on the vowels.

“The first time I ever got a nose bleed was reffing a soccer game,” JJ blurts, “I got tripped and almost broke my nose. I had a black eye and I had to tell people that a seven year old did that to me.”

The sentiment ears a soft laugh from Spencer, almost immediately followed by a wince. He stops, shuddering with the cold, and all he wants is to sleep.

“Hey, stay with us,” Morgan taps his head where it rests on his shoulder— _when had it slipped down?_ “My favourite color is pink.”

Spencer blinks, brows furrowing, “ _What_?”

“Yeah,” Morgan asserts, “I said it. Pink, like salmon pink. My dad always wore a pink hanker chief to church on Sunday mornings. I always carry one with me on cases.”

“I never knew that,” JJ coos, voice tinged with sadness.

“It _never_ leaves this—“

And then they hear it. The banging.

“Reid, JJ, Morgan! Are you in there? Can you hear me?” Within seconds JJ is on her feet, sprinting to the door and pounding back; calling out Hotch’s name.

Morgan glances to the side, and realises very quickly that boy wonder is slipping fast. “JJ tell them to hurry!”

His shouting is enough to drag Reid up from his fitful slumber, pressing his finger into the bandage in an effort to keep himself awake.

“Morgan,” He rasps, voice hoarse, “I _can’t_ keep my eyes open.”

“I know, come on Spencer. Look at me.”

He blinks a few times, nodding, though his head lulls back to Morgan’s shoulder.

It’s all flashes from there.

He can see Hotch above him— _when had he laid down?_ — a stethoscope on his chest. He sees light above him, he feels the IV they slip into his arm.... he sees darkness for a while, and it feels like he’s floating. And then, for a moment, he feels nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

”Morgan! How is he—“ she shuffles, trying to get closer to the door but the nurse sighs softly looking up at her with tired eyes. 

“Sweetheart, _please_ stay still,” The nurse is a kind-looking a older woman, blonde hair greying at the roots, but despite JJ’s inherent inability to sit still she still smiles reassuringly, “You’re almost done.” 

“ _Sorry_ ,” JJ murmurs bashfully, tucking her legs under herself and Morgan sits beside her on the bed, changed into a fresh pair of clothes and holding two cups of coffee. 

“That’s alright, Agent, I’ll be back in a bit, and then you should be all good for release.” she waives it off easily enough, writing on her chart before promising to be back. 

“How is he?” She repeats. 

“How are _you_?” Morgan inquirers softly, eyes worried. 

She sighs, taking the coffee he holds out to her, “Borderline severe concussion, a couple stitches on my temple. Other than that just a little banged up. How is he?” 

Morgan turns around, and as if on command, Spencer’s unconscious frame appears, laid out on a hospital bed, fresh out of surgery. When he turns to meet JJ’s eyes, he lets out heavy breath. 

“Hotch said that the Advil he took before they found us  complicated surgery. Reid was too out of it to tell us that it would lower his clotting capability, he almost bled out on the table.” 

Silence stretches between them for a long moment and when Morgan looks up from picking at his cup he sees JJ staring at the door, held open by Garcia. 

“Hey,” Morgan brings her back to earth,“Take these sunglasses, and your IVs. I’ll walk you over there.” 

Before he can reach for his sunglasses, JJ’s pulling Morgan’s body into hers, resting her head against his shoulder, whispering, “ _Thank you_.” 

He just squeezes her back with as much force, rubbing soothing circles on her back. When she finally breaks, he just holds her, murmuring the occasional soothing reminder until the door opens again. 

She sniffs, wiping under her eyes just as Will lifts the littlest lights of her of life onto the bed. 

“Mommy, why are you crying? Can I kiss it better?” Henry asks, eyes wide and doe-like. 

“Would you?” JJ smiles, she bends down, head at Henry’s level. He grips it with his little hands, pressing a kiss to her head, before pulling back and looking at her with a hopeful gaze. “I already feel so much better, buddy! You must be magic!” 

He giggles, balling his hands, lips falling into a pout, slightly after, “Uncle Spencer’s asleep.” 

JJ’s brows furrow, and she brushes the hair out of his eyes, “Did you see him, buddy?” 

He nods sombrely, “Auntie Penny let us kiss his head better too. She told us he was sleepy and we needed to be quiet.” 

“That was nice of her, huh?” She asks softly, sending Will a look. 

He just sends one back that says, ‘ _I couldn’t say no to their little puppy eyes, hun_ ’; and as sad as it makes her to know that her little boys saw Spencer like that, she has to admit, she understands. 

After the Doctor has come and gone, and JJ has helped herself to a shower and the new clothes that Will and the boys picked out for her, she brings herself to Reid’s room. 

She stops at the door, air knocked out of her lungs. It’s a sight she’s not sure she’ll ever get used to. Her best friend pale and frail and everything beyond. 

His lips are parted, hair a train wreck on his head. They’ve cleaned him up a bit, he’s no longer covered in his own blood, only littered in bruises and somehow that makes it worse. 

Dereks hand comes to rest on her shoulder, and she turns to look at him, “on three, yeah?”

She nods, silently taking in three breaths before walking into the room. She can hear Garcia and Will chatting, and if she focuses enough, she can hear Michael’s soft snores against Will’s neck.

She sits down near Reid’s thigh, taking his hand in hers. She can’t fight the giggle when his leg twitches, knocking into her thigh. 

“Even comatose, the kid can’t sit still,” Morgan mumbles, rolling his eyes. 

“M’not comatose,” Reid mutters hoarsely, words crackling, eyes still closed, “At least not anymore.”

He lulls his head to the right to look at them, eyelids slowly fluttering open to reveal exhausted irises. They narrow when they focus on the bruise enveloping Morgan’s cheeks and the prevalent black eye that has made itself of home on his face.

He rolls his head to get a look at JJ, pushing himself up (not without a wince) to brush the hair away from her stitches, and to get a better look at her split lip.

“Did they get him?” He mumbles before seemingly realising why he’d winced before, “Oh, not before he got _me_ , huh?”

A moment of silence passes between them.

And then two.

And then three.

“I’m okay,” Spencer says, moving to fully sit up, “It hurts a little, but I’m okay—“ he dissolved into a fit of coughs and from the hall,Garcia walks in with a conked out Henry balanced on her hip, a box of apple juice in her hands ready for him to take.

He murmurs a soft thanks, struggling to stab the drunk with his shaking hands. Morgan rises, taking the juice box and slipping the straw in— only earning a soft frown from Spencer.

He sips quietly, a million thoughts whirring through his head. It’s deafening in the silence of the room.

Finally, Morgan speaks, “ _Seventeen_.”

Spencer looks up from the Mott’s box, and distantly JJ thinks it must be another thing her boys got from their Godfather.

“You were out for seventeen hours that last time. You kept asking and I didn’t know what to tell you. Out of the thirty five hours we were in that warehouse, you were conscious for eighty-seven _minutes_. I thought I was going to lose my little brother.” His eyes are misty and he wipes his eyes hastily, wincing when he makes contact with the bruise.

“Morgan...” Spencer soothes softly, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, kid,” he mumbles, trying to mask his grief. “Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?”

“Getting up to hug you— JJ, why are you—“

“You must still have a fever,” She blurts, feeling his forehead and cheeks, “Spencer Reid _doesn’t_ hug.” 

“Shut up,” He mumbles, pulling Morgan and her against his lithe frame. He’s still shaky, his grip less firm than usual but far better than it had been just hours prior. “I’m sorry for blacking out. If it helps I can remember trying to stay awake, but I just couldn’t. My body wasn’t listening.”

“Probably didn’t help that you _never sleep,_ Boy Wonder.” Penelope teases from where she stands, and Spencer sends her a soft smile, reaffirming that she knew he hadn’t meant any harm by the comment.

“Uncle Spencer?” It’s Henry’s sleepy voice that pulls them out of their thoughts. He’s making those little grabby hands of his and before Spencer can stop himself, JJ’s mini-me is perched in his lap, pressed sleepily against his chest.

Spencer leans back, kissing Henry’s forehead, “Hey Hen,” he coos softly, running a calming hand against the young boys spine, “I heard you gave me one of your magic kisses when I was sleeping, huh?”

Henry nods proudly, a sleepy grin on his features, “Yeah! Did it make you feel better?”

Spencer nods, pulling his Godson closer, “So _so_ much better, buddy! Thank you, I think you fixed me better than the Doctors, but don’t tell them.”

The three others take that as their cue to leave, but that doesn’t stop them from listening to the two boys talk about magic from the hallway.

Henry’s lets our a few giggles, but in an instant his lips pull into a frown again, and he throws his arms around Spencer, “I was scared. You and Mama and Daddy told me not to be scared, but I was.”

“That’s okay, kiddo,” Spencer whispers, combing through Henry’s fine blond strands, “It’s okay to be scared sometimes. I was scared too, but you always have to have hope too, okay?” 

Henry nods into Spencer’s neck, sobs slowly turning into to slumbering breaths, and it’s only once JJ and Morgan wall back into the room that they realise both of them are fast asleep.

Spencer’s laying on his side, hand danglingprecariously off the edge of the bed, forearm pinned down by Henry’s head. Both are snuffling, Spencer from the built up sinuses and Henry as usual.

“Oh,” Penelope simpers, “Our sleepy boys.”

And it’s at that that Morgan and JJ softly echo, “Our sleepy boys.”


End file.
